Hair of the Dog
by Kimmeth
Summary: One day, the battle of wits between Ethel and Mildred goes too far, and a life hangs in the balance. Can Mildred use her mistakes to her advantage before it’s too late? COMPLETE AT LONG LAST!
1. Chapter 1

_Hair of the dog_

_Summary: _One day, the battle of wits between Ethel and Mildred goes too far, and a life hangs in the balance. Can Mildred use her mistakes to her advantage before it's too late?

_Disclaimer:_ I own nought save the plot, and Jill Murphy created the characters. I'm using them as played by the wonderful actresses of the second series. This takes place towards the end of said series – the gang are in form 2, and Miss Bat is still around.

* * *

_One_

_Another day, another disaster._

Mildred looked into the cauldron containing what should have been her and Maud's latest potions test with dismay. Whilst the rest of the class were stirring pots of clear blue, gently simmering liquid, theirs was the colour of custard and bubbling thickly.

"What do you suppose we've done wrong this time?" asked Maud gloomily, ladling up a scoop of the gloop and letting it go with a plop. "I think it was too much water reed."

"Or too little bindweed," said Mildred, holding up a large clump. "I think we should put some more in."

"You have two minutes remaining," came Miss Hardbroom's voice from the front of the class. "You should have finished by now. Blabbermouth potion isn't that slow to brew."

The two second-years looked at their potion and then at each other.

"Well, it can't be much worse than it is already," said Maud. "Put the rest of the bindweed in Millie."

Mildred chopped the bindweed roughly and threw it into the cauldron, which began to bubble ever more violently until a puff of smoke exploded, causing the girls to jump back with a squeal.

"And Mildred and Maud's perfectly timed explosion signals the end of the test." Miss Hardbroom could be seen moving through the smoke, which dissipated with a wave of her hand. She had her usual expression of mercilessness affixed firmly in place. "Seeing as though no-one else's potion produced quite such spectacular effects, I'm expecting something extra special from you two." She peered into the cauldron and raised her eyebrows, which all the girls had long since come to know as a very bad sign.

"Oh dear." She walked back to the front of the class. "Girls, I want you to decant your potions into the bottles provided and, in turn, take a teaspoonful. We don't want you all babbering gibberish all day."

Mildred picked up the empty bottle on the desk.

"Shall we see the damage?"

Maud ladled up a spoonful of potion and poured it into the bottle.

"Well, it certainly looks better than it did before," she said. The liquid had stopped effervescing and had turned a pale, opally colour.

"It's still not right though. Look at Ethel's."

They looked up at Ethel and Drusilla's desk, where their bottle of beautiful, sapphire jewel-coloured potion had made them speak perfect gobbledegook for a few seconds.

"Mildred and Maud," called Miss Hardbroom. She was looking horribly expectant. Maud poured a few drops onto the teaspoon and was about to swallow it when the teacher spoke again. "Wait." She came over and looked at the bottle closely. "Girls, I can honestly say that whilst you have definitely not made a blabbermouth potion, I have no idea what you've made instead. I think there's only one place for this particular concoction." She stalked across the room and opened the dangerous potions cabinet, placing the bottle on the top shelf. "We don't want any unexpected nasty side-effects, do we?"

"She does," muttered Maud as they packed away. "You can see it in her eyes. There's nothing she'd like more than to see us suffer."

"Oh dear," said Ethel in an annoyingly loud voice as Mildred passed her to hang up her apron. "Poor Mildred's got her potion so wrong that she's ended up in the dangerous potions cabinet. Wherever next?"

"That's enough Ethel," called Miss Hardbroom, firing a spell at the cupboard to lock it. Ethel closed her mouth but not for long.

"Useless," she hissed n Mildred's ear.

Mildred glared at her darkly, an hundred spells passing through her mind as she envisaged Ethel as a pig, a frog, a flea…

"Hurry up Mil," yelled Maud from the door. "We'll be late for chanting."

Mildred ignored Ethel's smirk and left the room, Maud casting a contemptuous glance back over her shoulder at her friend's tormentor.

Ethel burst out laughing as she and Drusilla followed them out.

"Has Hubble Trouble ever made a potion correctly?" asked Drusilla of no-one in particular.

"You know, I don't think she has." Ethel tried to control herself. "I wonder what she made this time." They stopped outside the door to the chanting classroom. "Shall we find out?" she asked Drusilla, an excited glint coming into her eyes. "Batty isn't there yet."

"I don't know Ethel. It's in the dangerous potions cabinet."

"That's only because Miss Hardbroom hasn't had time to work out what it is yet. Besides, I wasn't suggesting that we tried it ourselves. Do you honestly think I'd willingly drink anything Mildred made?"

"I'm still not sure."

Ethel sighed at her friend.

"What's wrong with you today?" she said. "Normally you'd jump at the chance to get Mildred into some sort of trouble."

"Normally I would, yes, but this is the dangerous potions cabinet we're talking about here Ethel. Don't you think that's going a little bit too far? Hardbroom's not stupid, if she thinks it's dangerous then it probably is."

"She only put it in there to make an example," said Ethel. "I mean, how badly wrong can a blabbermouth potion go?"

Drusilla still looked unsure, which caused her friend to stamp her foot in indignation.

"Fine. You don't have to be in on it. You just run and get Miss Hardbroom when Batty falls down the stairs. You need never know what's gone on."

"What?" Drusilla began, but Ethel had already scampered back to the lab. A few seconds later, she heard the trill voice of Miss Bat singing her way down the stairs from the first years' classroom, followed promptly by a scream and several painful thuds. Drusilla took this as her cue to race back for the potions teacher, but she was impeded by the flood of fellow second years coming out of the chanting room to investigate the disturbance.

Back at the lab, Ethel was waiting for Drusilla with impatience. She'd charmed the stairs ages ago, but there was still no sign of her. _She's probably bottled it_, thought Ethel grimly. _I'll have to have words with her later_. Just then, the noise from the other end of the corridor became so great that Miss Hardbroom noticed it without the need for Drusilla's intervention and came outside, ready to deal a swift and painful punishment to the perpetrators of the racket. Ethel slipped inside a spent a few moments considering the cabinet whilst she searched for the spell to unlock it. She'd never realised how handy such a spell could be.

"_Kista pandorum partus thesorum_," she muttered, and the doors flew open. She grabbed the bottle of opal-coloured liquid and shut the doors, but before she could think of the reverse spell a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Ethel? What are you doing?"

Ethel whirled around to find Sybil standing just inside the doorway, looking shocked and shrewd in equal measure. Ethel tried to slip the potion into her bag surreptitiously, but she couldn't manage it.

"It's none of your business," she snapped. "Second-year stuff. Besides, what are you doing in here anyway?"

"I have a potions lesson next," said Sybil levelly. "Once Miss Hardbroom has finished peeling Miss Bat off the bottom of the stairs. Don't you have chanting now?"

"Alright girls," came the voice of their formidable potions teacher. "Into the classroom, there's nothing to see. Ethel, what are you doing in here?"

"I... forgot something Miss Hardbroom. I'm leaving now." Ethel pushed past the gaggle of first-years and her somewhat bemused teacher, praying that no further questioning would ensue. After all, Miss Hardbroom was hardly likely to suspect her perfect student, was she?

Miss Hardbroom raised her eyebrows to herself but said nothing.

"Girls, today we'll be looking at laughter potion again. The ingredients are on the front desk, please form an orderly... I said ORDERLY line to collect them."

As Sybil passed the dangerous potions cabinet to collect her ingredients, one of the doors swung open with an ominous creak. Sybil shrieked, which sent the entire class into hysteria.

"Oh for goodness sake! What's the matter now?" asked Miss Hardbroom.

"The cupboard door opened by itself Miss," volunteered Clarice.

Miss Hardbroom sighed heavily and strode to the cupboard, magicking it shut once again.

"It's called a draught, girls, and there are quite a few in this castle. Nothing remotely sinister or supernatural. Mind you," she added under her breath. "I could've sworn I locked that cabinet five minutes ago."

Unbeknownst to the teacher, Sybil had heard this muttered aside. She snatched up her ingredients and returned to her desk, Ethel's guilty eyes foremost in her mind.

XXX

"I reckon that this is exactly the same semolina that we've been served up for the past three nights in a row," said Enid in disgust as they sat around the table that evening. She swallowed a spoonful with a grimace. "It certainly tastes like it."

"All semolina tastes the same," said Maud. She went to pick up her own spoon but found herself without one. "Millie! You were supposed to be picking up the spoons! You've forgotten again."

Mildred looked down at the table to find that she didn't have a spoon either.

"I was sure I picked up a couple of spoons. Oh well. I was miles away." She got up and squeezed past Maud in search of cutlery. "Well? Talk amongst yourselves!"

Her friends laughed and leant in to continue their conversation. No one paid any attention to Mildred's unguarded pudding as Ethel leant over and poured a few drops of the potion into the bowl.

"Ethel?" The voice made her start and she upended the bottle, emptying the whole lot into the sticky semolina. She looked to her left to find Sybil and Drusilla looking at her, unamused. Ethel retreated to her own table and stashed the bottle back in her bag.

"I still think you've gone too far this time," said Drusilla.

"Well there's not exactly much you can do about it now, is there?" said Ethel, irritated. "In fact, thanks to you I put the whole bottle in. I didn't intend to do that."

"I'll tell Mildred what you did," said Sybil. Ethel gave her a withering look and the first year appeared to shrink visibly beneath her gaze.

"Will you really?" Releasing her little sister's attention, she looked over to watch Mildred coming back to the table with two spoons to replace the ones that she had summarily puffified when no one was looking.

"It's ok Mil," said Maud as Mildred went to squeeze past her again. "I'll move up and have your bowl. It's not like you've eaten any of it, is it?" As Mildred sat down in Maud's newly vacated seat she passed her friend a spoon sheepishly.

"I'm sorry. I was..."

"Miles away," finished the group as one.

"Where were you daydreaming at?" asked Jadu. "You've been distracted all afternoon."

"I was thinking about Ethel," said Mildred, stirring the bowl in front of her absentmindedly. "When she came in late to chanting after Miss Bat fell down the stairs this morning. She was holding something and I didn't see what it was."

"You know Ethel," said Maud. "She was probably only trying to bait you into doing something irretrievable and getting yourself expelled." Maud became aware of another presence behind her and spun round to find Ethel's face alarmingly close to her own. "Oi! Don't eavesdrop on other people's conversations! It's rude!"

Ethel, who had leant over to check that all the potion had been absorbed, scowled and turned back.

"I don't know what's going to happen after that blabbermouth potion though," said Mildred sadly. "Imagine it. In the dangerous potions cabinet. Soon the entire school will think that I'm trying to turn people into tadpoles."

"Why tadpoles?" Maud began, but again felt someone else behind her. "Look!" she said angrily, turning round. "I've already told you once... oh, hello Sybil."

Sybil said nothing in reply, instead looking at Maud's semolina as if it was alive and about to jump up and bite her.

"Well?" snapped Maud. "What is it? It may have escaped your notice but when semolina goes cold it magically transforms into inedible wallpaper paste, and mine's halfway there already."

"I..." Sybil started to speak but then caught sight of Ethel's smirking face out of the corner of her eye and couldn't go through with it. "No. It's not important right now."

Maud finally turned back to her pudding, quirking an eyebrow as if to say 'well that was a waste of time'.

"I wonder what she was going to say," pondered Enid. "She does look very worried."

"Wouldn't you be if Ethel was your sister?" snorted Ruby.

"Let's change the subject," said Maud. "Is it me or does this semolina taste even worse than usual?"

Enid rolled her eyes.

"We've just been saying how it always tastes the same!"

"Maybe it's just my mouth playing tricks on me." She shrugged. "Trying to make meals a little more exciting perhaps. Well." She pushed her half-eaten bowl away. "There is absolutely no way that I'm finishing that. Thank goodness HB isn't on duty."

The girls left the table and as they neared the dining room door, Mildred cast a glance backwards at Ethel and her sister. Sybil was watching them leave, her petrified eyes trying desperately to communicate some sort of message.

"Come on Millie!"

Reluctantly Mildred left the room, wondering what Sybil was too scared to say.

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Please review, this is my first fic for this fandom.


	2. Chapter 2

_Whew! Ok folks, I never normally update this quickly, I have no idea what's got into me. (Actually I do, it's a hella lot of chinese takeaway. Good old e-numbers. Good old student diet.) Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!_

_Two_

_No Ordinary Fever_

Mildred woke up suddenly in the middle of the night to find Tabby growling at the window.

"It's ok Tab," she whispered. "It's only a storm." She got out of bed and went over to the window, picking up Tabby and cuddling him close as she stared out at the weather. The rain was falling as a steady sheet, the wind blowing it almost horizontal as the occasional bolts of lightning showed an unforgiving landscape in harsh relief. "I wonder if there's anyone out there," she said to her cat. "All alone in the storm, desperately seeking somewhere dry. No one can like being out in this sort of weather Tabby. I know ducks are supposed to enjoy the rain but even they can't be happy in a tempest like this. It's even worse than Wet Week, and that is definitely saying something."

Mildred looked up to the darkest corner of her room, where a scuffling noise could be heard.

"Winky, Blinky and Nod have sensibly decided to stay inside I see." She let Tabby onto the floor, from where he promptly jumped up onto the bed and curled up in the still warm spot under the covers where Mildred's feet had been. "Clever bats." She reached up and stroked the nearest one, although it was impossible to tell which. Just then, another noise reached Mildred's ears, above the roar of the storm and the chirruping of the bats.

"Did you hear that Tab? It sounded like a moan." She went over and closed the shutters, blocking out the noise from outside but also the light. Mildred could just make out the candlestick in the darkness and wondered if she could risk the flame spell without setting her bedstead on fire, incurring Miss Hardbroom's wrath or both of the previous combined.

"What time is it? Surely well past midnight. All the teachers will be fast asleep. I think it will be fine." Mildred was about to cast the spell when the moan came again. It sounded different this time, more like a cry of distress.

"That's it, there's definitely something going on." She took a deep breath and waved her fingers in the direction of the candle. "_Inflammatus Inflagradus_."

A perfect puff of flame appeared atop the wax, bathing the room in a soft glow. Mildred secretly half-wished that one of her teachers had been there to see it. It was typical she thought, that she could only do things properly when no one was watching. Picking up the candlestick, Mildred ventured across the room and peered around the door into the darkened corridor. A clock on the wall showed her that it was half-past midnight. She listened for the moaning again, finally hearing it to her left. It seemed to be coming from Maud's room.

"Maud?" whispered Mildred, puzzled, as she knocked softly on her friend's door. "Maud is that you groaning? Is everything alright?"

There was no reply so Mildred opened the door a fraction before inserting herself fully. Maud was tossing and turning in bed, mumbling and groaning incoherently in her sleep.

"That's not like Maud," thought Mildred aloud as she crossed the room cautiously. "Normally she sleeps very still and quietly. It must be a pretty horrendous nightmare." She put the candle down on the cabinet next to the bed and tried to wake her friend. "Maud, it's me, Millie. It's only a nightmare. Wake up Maud." Voice alone didn't seem to be having any effect, so Mildred took Maud's shoulders gingerly to shake her, but sprang back almost immediately. Maud was burning up. "Oh no," said Mildred, feeling the panic beginning to flow through her veins like ice. "Oh no, that's not good." She backed off into a corner and stood there for a few moments, collecting her thoughts. It was no use getting into a flap, she told herself crossly. Maud was ill and needed help. But how? Mildred couldn't remember – were you supposed to keep a person with a fever hot or cold? Hot, she finally decided. Weren't you supposed to sweat out a fever? Mildred pulled the covers up to Maud's chin and closed the shutters against the draught from the window. Now what?

Mildred sat on the edge of her friend's bed, wondering helplessly what she should do next. On one hand, Maud wasn't getting better in a hurry. On the other hand...

"Now what do I do?" she asked Maud's cat, Midnight. "I can't just go back to bed and pretend that nothing's happened. There's definitely something wrong; she'll need medicine of some sort, but that means waking up the teachers... and no one wants to do that at half-past midnight."

At that point Maud gave another groan, sounding more pained than ever. Mildred screwed her eyes up tight and made her decision.

"I'll go and find Fenny and Griz. They'll know what to do. They always know what to do. Don't worry Maud. You're going to be fine."

Mildred picked up her candle again and cast a worried glance back at her friend before she left the room.

XXX

Mildred was beginning to think that she'd had a very bad idea when she'd decided to look for Fenny and Griz. Her main problem was that she was helplessly lost and she had no idea where the third years' rooms were in the castle, and despite going back to her own room to put her boots on her feet were like blocks of ice.

"Now what?" she asked as she came to another corridor full of doors, each bearing names she's never heard of. "All the landings in this place look the same. I bet I'm going round in circles without realising." Mildred could feel tears welling up in her eyes as she trudged into the next corridor, her mind on Maud, tossing and turning on the floor below. Wearily she raised the candle to look at the labels on this latest set of doors and life flooded back into her veins like ice water. She'd inadvertently found the teachers' rooms, the one place she was hoping to avoid.

"Drat." She turned to make her way as quickly as possible out of the extremely volatile area. She knew exactly what was going to happen next, and the high, cruel voice in the back of her mind, a voice not unlike Ethel's, hissed 'I told you so' as she tripped over her undone bootlaces and came crashing down onto the flags, the candle extinguishing itself on impact and rolling away down the corridor. Mildred stayed flat on the floor for a few moments, her eyes tightly shut, bracing herself to be yanked upright by the terrifying vision in purple that was Miss Hardbroom in pyjamas.

After a few seconds had passed without incident, however, Mildred dared to think that she might just have got away with it and made to stand up again, thanking whoever it was up there watching over her until a voice from behind made her freeze.

"Mildred?" She turned to see Miss Drill peering round the nearest door, looking utterly perplexed. "What on Earth are you doing?"

The wave of relief that hit Mildred at that point was indescribable.

"It's Maud, she said, scrambling to her feet. "She's got a really high temperature and I was looking for Fenny and Griz but I got lost and ended up here by accident and..."

"Mildred, please calm down and tie up your laces before you wake up someone else." The inadvertent glance down the corridor told Mildred exactly which someone else they were talking about. "Now, let's see what we can do for poor Maud."

Mildred was amazed at how calmly the PE teacher was taking it all as they sped down the corridors in the darkness. It was as if second years threw themselves on the floor at almost one o'clock every night. Mildred shrugged inwardly. For all she knew, they did. It didn't seem to take them half as long to reach Maud's room as the opposite journey had done.

"You're right, she's on fire," said Miss Drill after feeling Maud's forehead. "And no wonder. Open the window Mildred and let some air in. We need to cool her down."

Mildred bit her lip sheepishly and reopened the window she had closed.

"Can you tell what's wrong?" she asked quietly. Maud was still whimpering in her sleep quietly, but not as much as she had been doing.

"She's certainly got a fever and it sounds like she's delirious. I don't know what's caused it."

Mildred thought she could detect a note of worry in Miss Drill's voice. They both looked down at Maud, wondering what to do next.

"It's probably just flu or the like," said the teacher definitively. "We need to get her temperature down, and then she'll be infinitely better. Sometimes the simplest methods are best. Fetch me a cold, wet flannel Mildred."

_It isn't hard_, thought Mildred darkly as she brought the dripping flannel back from the bathroom. _Everything in this place is cold and wet_.

"She'll be alright," said Miss Drill on seeing Mildred's worried scowl. "Flu won't hang around for long in someone healthy like Maud." She put the flannel on Maud's forehead and for a while it appeared to be working. She quietened down and didn't seem to be so distressed. Mildred felt like a complete idiot. If she'd known that all it took was a wet flannel then she wouldn't have needed to skulk around the castle.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she said presently.

"It's alright Mildred. I'd far rather that you woke me up than you spent hours searching for Fenny and Griz. They mean well but the treatments can be slightly suspect."

Mildred laughed in spite of the gloom that was settling in the pit of her stomach.

"I think you should go back to bed, Mildred. It looks as if Maud's going to be ok, and we don't want you falling asleep in assembly."

Mildred was about to leave when Maud suddenly began to shiver violently.

"What's happening?"

"I have no idea. Perhaps we've cooled her down too much."

Miss Drill pulled the covers back over her and checked her temperature, shaking her head.

"She's still burning up, but her hands are freezing. This is no ordinary fever. It's certainly not a simple case of flu, that's for sure. Maud," she called softly. "Maud, can you hear me?"

"Wake up Maud!" said Mildred in despair, but Maud continued in her half-slumber, groaning awkwardly. "Do you think she's in pain?"

"I honestly don't know Mildred. I've never seen anything like this before. We'll just have to keep her head cool and the rest of her warm." Mildred took this as her cue to fetch a fresh flannel. On her return she found Maud shivering even more.

"It must be something magical," said Miss Drill sadly. "You haven't been experimenting, have you?"

"Of course not!" exclaimed Mildred. "If I knew it was a spell then I wouldn't be so worried!"

"I'm sorry Mildred, but you've got to admit that it is possible."

Mildred nodded in a melancholy understanding.

"Don't you have any medicine you could give her?"

"Not for anything like this. There's only one thing that I think it could be."

"What?"

Miss Drill was silent, as if saying the words would make it horribly real.

"Witches' flu," she said finally. "But there hasn't been a case at Cackles for years... It was before I started teaching."

"What's witches' flu?" asked Mildred, already sensing that it was not something simple.

"I don't really know, not being a witch myself. It's like flu, but it affects your magical ability as well."

Mildred looked down at her friend sadly as Miss Drill felt her temperature again. Witches' flu sounded serious, but surely Maud couldn't have it. She'd been perfectly healthy all day, not even a sniffle. Although, Mildred thought to herself grimly, they were all living proof that where magic was concerned, absolutely anything can happen.

"Is it serious?" she asked quietly.

"It can be," came the equally worried reply. "You can lose the magic."

Mildred's breath caught in her throat. Maud couldn't just stop being a witch, could she?

"How come you know about it?" she asked Miss Drill.

"You pick things up." She dabbed at Maud's flushed face with the flannel. "Unfortunately I don't know enough. I don't know how to treat it or stop it."

Mildred's heart plummeted to her boots. She stared out of the window at the bleak countryside and the incessant, pouring rain, feeling horribly alone and helpless.

"There's only one person who can really help now." Miss Drill looked up at her in an earnest anxiety, and Mildred, who thought that her heart could sink no further, knew what she was going to say. The nasty voice in her head began to laugh at her cruelly as the teacher spoke again.

"I'm sorry Mildred. You're going to have to get Miss Hardbroom."

_A/N: How's it going so far? Press the little blue button, you know you want to..._

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	3. Chapter 3

_Again, I don't know what's got into me as I haven't even been eating Chinese takeaway. There must've been more caffeine in that rice than I thought. Or it may have been something to do with the fact I haveGerman history to prep that's been sitting on my desk for nearly two weeks and I haven't done it yet... Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

_Three_

_A Grim Diagnosis_

Mildred could feel her heart racing as she padded along the corridors for the second time that night. It was so fast that she could hear the blood pounding in her ears, as loud and persistent as the downpour outside. Her candle simply didn't give enough light, and Mildred found herself jumping at shadows that she had not noticed on her first journey through the castle. Before, her mind had been preoccupied with thoughts of Maud and her mystery illness, and she had been concentrating on finding her way. Now, however, she knew exactly where she was going and she could think of nothing but the daunting task in front of her. Waking up the deputy headmistress by accident was bad enough, but doing it on purpose didn't bear thinking about.

A draught caught her ankles and Mildred gave an involuntary shiver. She wished she had brought Tabby along, for both warmth and company. She tried to imagine him, wound around her shoulders and purring like a foghorn, but it didn't work. Besides, she knew from experience that an imaginary Tabby was no substitute for the real thing. A noise made her start and she looked up, but it was only a bat fluttering across the rafters. _I have every right to be here_, she told herself firmly. _I have every right to go and wake Miss Hardbroom up, because Miss Drill told me to._ Finally she reached the corridor in which she had fallen over so spectacularly about half an hour previously and hesitated, getting cold feet in more than one sense of the word. Surely one of the other teachers would know how to treat witches' flu? After all, they were all witches themselves. She passed Miss Bat's door and stopped, thinking about it.

_No_, she decided. For a start, the chanting teacher would probably panic and wake the entire school if Mildred told her that Maud was ill, and one could never be fully sure that she wasn't in the staffroom cupboard. Time was of the essence, and Mildred didn't want to waste it by trying to wake up a woman who wasn't there. Maybe Miss Cackle would know what to do. She'd get anyone but her form-mistress...

Mildred shook herself crossly. Miss Drill had told her to get Miss Hardbroom, so it was Miss Hardbroom whom she was going to get. She continued along the corridor determinedly and stopped at the final door, taking a deep breath.

"You have nothing to fear except fear itself," she whispered aloud. _And a sleeping teacher_, she added mentally. _Hell hath no fury like a woman woken up at half past one in the morning by her least favourite student_.

Mildred knocked on the door tentatively.

"Miss Hardbroom? Please wake up."

There was no reply from inside the room. In fact, there were no sounds of life at all. Mildred was struck by a terrible vision of all the teachers being struck down by witches' flu and unable to help when she realised that she was once again letting her imagination get the better of her. She knocked again, slightly harder this time, and pressed her ear to the door to listen for signs of waking. All she could hear was purring.

"This isn't getting me anywhere." She tried to door but found it inevitably locked. "What's that spell again? _Unlockus doorus? Open sesame? Kista pandemonium?" _The lock clicked and the door swung open, Miss Cackle's voice echoing in Mildred's head – _not perfect, but close enough to do the trick._

She ventured into the dark room with the same trepidation as a knight about to face a particularly scary dragon. Miss Hardbroom's cat, curled up on one end of the bed, opened one green eye and viewed her with suspicion as she got closer. What made matters worse, in Mildred's eyes, was that all she could see of her teacher was her long hair over the pillow. Things were always scarier when they were only half visible.

"Miss Hardbroom, please wake up, it's an emergency. Miss Hardbroom!"

There was nothing for a few moments, and then the lump of covers spoke in a tone which froze Mildred to the spot there and then.

"Mildred Hubble, this had better be an extremely good emergency."

Miss Hardbroom emerged, looking quietly furious that a second-year had had the temerity to break into her bedroom. It was almost the same expression of disdain that she had worn when Mildred had dropped the fire bucket over her head.

"I am waiting, Mildred."

Finding her tongue at last, Mildred shut her eyes and relayed the entire story without stopping for breath. She felt it wise not to let her teacher get a word in edgeways in case she jumped to the wrong conclusion.

"It's Maud, Miss Hardbroom, she's really ill and Miss Drill can't do anything because she says it's magical and she thinks it might be witches' flu..."

A firm grip on her shoulders cut her off. She opened her eyes to find Miss Hardbroom vertical and in rather close proximity.

"Mildred, pull yourself together. You sound as if you've been drinking blabbermouth. Tell me again what is going on."

"Maud's ill!" said Mildred, feeling herself well up again. "She's getting worse and nothing Miss Drill does is working. She thinks Maud might have witches' flu."

Miss Hardbroom searched Mildred's pleading, watery eyes and saw genuine worry in them. She finally released her vice-like grip on her student's shoulders and jumped up in search of suitable footwear.

"It is not witches' flu," she said. "Witches' flu has been eradicated for nearly fifty years and we would have noticed if she was coming down with it. It isn't witches' flu."

Mildred breathed a sigh of relief, but the feeling did not last long. If it wasn't the dreaded illness first thought, then what on Earth was it?

XXX

Neither witch spoke as they returned to Maud's room, until presently Miss Hardbroom asked:

"What sort of 'ill'?"

"What?" asked Mildred in return.

"What sort of 'ill' are we talking about? Is she sick? Feverish? Delirious? Hallucinating?"

"She's got a high fever and when we try to cool her down she gets too cold."

There was silence once more, but this time it was a silence fraught with tension and unspoken words.

"Do you know what it is?" probed Mildred anxiously.

"I have an idea," said Miss Hardbroom. "I only hope that I am proved wrong."

Miss Drill met them at Maud's door.

"She's got worse," she said darkly. Maud's breath was coming in ragged gasps. Mildred ran over and took her friend's cold, limp hand, willing the contact to miraculously make her better. She felt a gentle grip on her shoulders pull her away from the bed and could hear her teacher's voice snapping.

"Get out of the way Mildred."

Mildred watched with her heart beating hard in her mouth as Miss Hardbroom sat down on the edge of Maud's bed and began to check her pulse and breathing. After a few minutes of thorough examination she drew back slightly, her hand going to her face in an instinctive reaction to shock.

"What is it?" asked Miss Drill, who was still keeping her hold on Mildred's shoulders lest either of them do something drastic.

"As I thought. She's been poisoned."

The ensuing silence was overpowering. Mildred couldn't find the words to articulate the thoughts that were going through her head.

_Poisoned? How? Why? Who?_

"Can you do anything?" asked Miss Drill. She sounded as if she'd been choked. "Is there an antidote of some kind?"

"I don't know." Mildred could hear panic rising in Miss Hardbroom's voice for the first time in her two years at the school. "It could be anything. There are so many combinations of ingredients that form poisons with similar symptoms. Sometimes it can be a perfectly harmless potion until the quantities go wrong... too much bindweed for example. Everything has a different antidote, it's impossible to tell."

Mildred finally gave in to the tears that she had been holding in since she had first found her friend in her delirious state.

"There's one thing I could do," said Miss Hardbroom, although she didn't sound convinced of the fact. "The hair of the dog."

"I thought that was illegal," said Miss Drill.

"Well yes, it is, but it's the best option... it's the only option we have. It's the nearest that we can get to a perfect antidote in the time available."

"What's hair of the dog?" sniffed Mildred, gratefully accepting a handkerchief from the teacher behind her.

"It's an antidote to all poisons. It was outlawed a few years ago because it was held to be too dangerous. It uses the original poison as an ingredient, and the quantities have to be exact otherwise..."

No one finished the sentence.

"If we find the poison then I can make the hair of the dog. She'll be alright once she has it."

"So the only thing to do is work out what she was poisoned with."

Mildred found herself face to face with two quietly panicking teachers.

"Mildred?" asked her form-mistress. "Can you shed any light in this mystery?"

"I haven't poisoned Maud!" she exclaimed angrily."Why would I do such a thing? I wouldn't even poison Ethel!"

"It's alright Mildred, calm down," said Miss Drill. "We aren't accusing you of poisoning Maud; we just think that you're the one most likely to know what the poison is. Has she eaten anything odd for example?"

"No..." Mildred shook her head and frantically thought of what they'd had for dinner. "She had the same as me, the same as everyone. She was fine all day."

"Oh think Mildred, please!" pleaded Miss Hardbroom. "It could've been anything!"

"I am thinking!" said Mildred, tired, distraught and exasperated.

"Is there anything we can do to make her more comfortable?" asked Miss Drill pointedly, looking over at Maud's pale, shivering form. Miss Hardbroom nodded curtly and vanished. Mildred thought she felt the atmosphere in the room relax slightly with this departure. Miss Drill sank onto Maud's desk chair, lost in thought.

"If it wasn't something she ate then it must have been intentional. Someone must have slipped it to her," she said eventually.

"But why would anyone want to poison Maud? She wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I know Mildred. That's what makes this grim experience all the more chilling." There was no further discussion of the point as then Miss Hardbroom appeared, holding a box and a bottle.

"This is burning ice," she said, flipping open the box and taking out a perfect cube of opaque ice. "It will eventually melt," she explained as she placed the block on Maud's forehead, "but it will control her temperature and help her to breathe. There are ten blocks. Whilst she is burning through them, she is comparatively safe. Once the last block melts, our time is up. It's time to administer the antidote."

Mildred reached out and touched the ice, only to find it scorching. It had definitely earned its name.

"If she wakes up," Miss Hardbroom shook the bottle that Mildred presently recognised as wide-awake potion, grimacing at how little there was left. "We've got to keep her awake. Do not let her go back to sleep. I'm going to start the potion." She made to leave the room in the conventional manner but turned back at the door. "It makes you wonder how come such a thing happens in a school. Who could do something like this? Why?"

Fireworks exploded in Mildred's mind, all the fragmented pieces of the jigsaw finally coming together in a theory as she remembered snippets from the day's conversations

_I was thinking about Ethel... She was holding something... It made me suspicious... You know Ethel... Is it me or does this semolina taste even worse than usual... She does look very worried... I wouldn't even poison Ethel..._

It all fitted into place: Ethel coming in late to chanting from potions, hiding something, Sybil's worried look, Maud's semolina...

"Semolina!" she exclaimed to the surprise of her teachers. "It was in the semolina. Maud said it didn't taste right. Ethel put something in my pudding but Maud ended up eating it instead."

"What?" Miss Hardbroom began, in a tone that implied she didn't believe a word, but Miss Drill held up a hand to stop her.

"What did she put in it?"

"I don't know, I didn't see. I think it was something that she had after potions. She came in late to chanting trying to hide it."

Miss Drill looked at Miss Hardbroom as if to ask her opinion. The latter had gone paler than usual.

"The dangerous potions cabinet was unlocked," she murmured. "I knew I'd locked it at the end of the lesson. I knew it."

She vanished again, leaving the door half-open. Mildred looked at the empty space for a few seconds, feeling numb, still reeling from both the train of thought that had led her to the conclusion and the fact that her teachers actually believed her. A few moments of stunned silence followed until the potions teacher returned, looking grave.

"Your blabbermouth potion has gone, Mildred."

* * *

_A/N: Ok, I really don't think that the next update will come so quickly because that German history isn't going to go away and I've just remembered a load of French grammar, but when university has stopped taking over my life I will give you the next chapter._


	4. Chapter 4

_Wey, sorry about the slightly longer wait - been busy busy busy in the world of German history. You'll be pleased to know that I have absolutely shedloads of work to do but I am doing none of it because I'm going to a hallowe'en party tomorrow and therefore will be in no position to analyse French passives. The hallowe'en preparations made me think of this and I made a concerted effort to get it typed and up here. Enjoy. _

_PS. I think my characterisation goes off at one point - you'll know the point I mean hopefully. I apologise for this. _

* * *

_Four_

_The Hair of the Dog_

Ethel woke with a squeal as the door to her bedroom burst open without warning and she curled up as small as she could as the tall silhouette that stood in the frame spoke in a terrible, instantly recognisable voice.

"Ethel, where is the bottle that you took from the dangerous potions cabinet this morning?" Her form mistress's tone was soft and icy, venom dripping from every word. Even Ethel, who hadn't had as many late night run-ins with Miss Hardbroom as Mildred had, knew that voice to dangerous.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, although she knew that it was a futile attempt at a lie, an embarrassment considering her usual aptitude in such a field. Miss Hardbroom stormed into the room and the moonlight from the half-open window illuminated a face to match the voice.

"Ethel Hallow, this is a matter of life and death!" she hissed, bending so that her nose was an inch from her pupil's. "Maud Moonshine has been poisoned and if I cannot find what she was poisoned with then I cannot make her an antidote. She will die. Now give me Mildred's blabbermouth potion!"

Ethel scrambled out of bed and scrabbled about in her bag for the bottle. Miss Hardbroom suppressed a heavy sigh and closed her eyes for a few moments before drawing herself back up to her full height. She had been loath to believe that Ethel was involved in the drama, but the more that Mildred had described on their way down the corridor, the more it made a horrible sort of sense. And she had to admit, it wouldn't be the first time that Ethel had flouted the rules to the detriment of her fellow pupils.

Ethel finally located the bottle and pressed it into Miss Hardbroom's hands before bursting into genuine tears of shock.

"I didn't mean to poison her!" she spluttered. The teacher ignored her and called back through the open door.

"Mildred, take this down to the lab."

Reluctantly, Mildred appeared around the frame and took the proffered bottle. Miss Hardbroom returned her attention to Ethel.

"You..."

"Miss Hardbroom," interrupted Mildred nervously.

"I said go, Mildred!"

"But ..."

"What?!"

Mildred shook the bottle, her face a picture of panic.

"There's none left."

A ream of choice profanity ran through Miss Hardbroom's head but she kept control of her tongue. She turned back to Ethel, resisting the urge to shout and wake the entire school.

"There is a very good reason why the dangerous potions cabinet is so-called, Ethel, and also why it is off-limits to students. You are in an unspeakable amount of trouble. Miss Cackle's office, first thing in the morning." _If I were you, I'd start packing now, _she added mentally. "Mildred, lab, now!"

She swept out of the room, closing the door forcefully behind her. Mildred caught a final glimpse of Ethel's face before she was shepherded down the corridor. For the first time, she could see a distinct similarity between Sybil and her elder sister.

XXX

Miss Hardbroom could move quickly when she wanted too, reflected Mildred as she stood just inside the doorway of the potions laboratory, watching the teacher flying around the room gathering ingredients out of nooks and corners and throwing them seemingly haphazardly into the cauldron on the front desk.

"Miss..." she began, but as soon as Miss Hardbroom looked up and saw her she was cut off.

"Don't just stand there Mildred! I didn't bring you down here just so that you could watch me make a highly illegal potion!" She waved her hand and the flame beneath Mildred's usual cauldron roared into life. "Since there's no potion left for the antidote, you'll have to make it again. The ingredients are in the cupboard."

As Mildred collected the herbs together and slid quietly into her place behind the desk, she didn't think that she had ever been so scared in her entire life. Maud's continued survival depended upon her being able to make a potion incorrectly in exactly the same way as she had made it incorrectly before. It was a daunting task considering she had no idea what she'd done wrong in the first place. She looked up from her cauldron to the front desk, where Miss Hardbroom was muttering to herself as she measured out droplets from bottles whose names Mildred didn't even begin to try and pronounce. She wondered if it was safe to talk to her, and subsequently if it was ever safe to talk to Miss Hardbroom. Despite coming to a conclusion in the negative, Mildred had to ask her question. Not knowing the answer was gnawing at her stomach with jaws like ice.

"Miss Hardbroom," she began quietly. The addressee looked up, angry at the interruption. Mildred took a deep breath and carried on regardless. "Is it true what you said just now? Is Maud really going to die if she doesn't get the antidote?"

Miss Hardbroom paused with a handful of herbs hovering over the cauldron, giving Mildred her undivided attention. Her face showed a real sadness that was seldom seen ordinarily.

"I would dearly love to answer no, Mildred, and that I only said what I did to scare Ethel into giving up the bottle. But I can't lie to you. Not in such circumstances. Maud's life is in danger." She quickly returned her attention to the cauldron, perhaps in an attempt to mask any further emotion that she was in danger of showing.

Mildred looked down into the bubbling depths in front of her. The icy jaws had increased in their violence, and she knew that they weren't going to improve in any hurry. The lab was silent save for the occasional hiss as a drop of potion spat onto the flames below. Mildred added the final ingredient but she knew that it was wrong, or rather, right. The liquid was crystal blue, the colour of a perfect blabbermouth potion. Like the flame spell, she could only do things right at the wrong time.

"Miss," she ventured cautiously, not wanting to admit to having made a mistake at such a crucial point in the proceedings for fear of Miss Hardbroom's reaction. "I've made a blabbermouth potion."

"Good," said the teacher without looking up. "Bring it up here."

"You don't understand... I've made it correctly." She showed her the blue potion.

Miss Hardbroom leant heavily on the desk, staring at the wood as she fought the desire to say something, anything that would show up Mildred's inadequacies. After all, the girl couldn't really be blamed; she had just been told that her best friend was in mortal peril.

"Start again," she said eventually. "There are enough ingredients."

Mildred's hands were shaking as she began the potion again, this time throwing in more random amounts of virtually everything that she could lay her hands on in an attempt to recreate the flurry of the morning's test. She knew that a lot of pond reed had gone into the potion, but was that before or after the bindweed? Didn't it have the same consistency as custard at one point? It had definitely exploded at the end, as her potions so often did.

"I need that potion now Mildred," said Miss Hardbroom from the front desk. "Is it ready?"

"Nearly there..." Mildred flung in the final ingredient and crossed her fingers. There was no explosion. She looked down into the cauldron only to see crystal blue.

"You've made it correctly again, haven't you?" said Miss Hardbroom, her voice heavily checked. The tone made the jaws in Mildred's stomach suddenly clamp down tight.

"Stupid," she whispered to herself, fighting back tears and nausea. "Why am I so useless?"

Unable to hold back any longer, she ran from the lab with a hand over her mouth. Miss Hardbroom watched her leave, seeing for the first time not an infuriating second-year with a seemingly endless capacity for trouble but a petrified thirteen-year-old, who was staying awake on adrenaline alone and whose self-confidence had just deserted her. She knew that she was asking a lot of her at that moment in time, but she honestly believed that Mildred could do it. Perhaps it was time to let her know that...

XXX

Mildred let the tears fall freely as she stood over the sink, shivering and retching.

"Useless! Useless! Ethel's right, I'm useless and stupid and Maud's going to die and it's all my fault because I'm so bloody useless at being a witch!"

"Shshsh..." A pale hand pulled her long bunches out of her face. Mildred looked up to see Miss Hardbroom standing behind her in the mirror.

"Why..?" she began, choked.

"Because I too know from experience that being sick and having very long hair does not make for a pleasant combination. Now, why is it that you can only make potions right when you need to make them wrong?"

"Because I'm a pathetic witch!" Mildred exploded, half-screech, half-moan.

"Mildred, you will wake up the entire school if you continue in this vein. Please try to lower your voice." She paused. "You aren't pathetic or useless Mildred. Everyone makes mistakes. I've been brewing potions for almost twenty-five years and even I slip up occasionally." Mildred, floods of tears renewed, found herself turning and crying into her formidable teacher's chest, aware of the possible consequences of such an action but far too distraught to care. To her astonishment, Miss Hardbroom merely put an arm around her in what could almost be called a hug. "You do seem to make mistakes four times as regularly as everyone else and yes, it does infuriate me when you get things wrong that you really should be getting right by now, but you aren't useless. Look how many times you've saved the school, saved your friends, saved me even though at one point you were quite prepared to believe that I had turned you into a frog. You are not useless Mildred. Never think that."

They stayed like that, listening to the storm outside, until Mildred's sobs slowed and finally stopped. Miss Hardbroom released her and suddenly it was as if the previous moments had never happened.

"Mildred, get back to the lab. You have fifteen minutes in which to make a perfect blabbermouth potion. "

"But..."

"Do as I say, Mildred!"

Miss Hardbroom swept out of the cloakroom, leaving Mildred to contemplate the extraordinary scene that had just taken place.

XXX

It was only as she was adding a handful of roughly chopped bindweed to a cauldron full of what appeared to be thick custard that Mildred realised she had been a victim of reverse psychology. As the miniature explosion heralded a wrongly made blabbermouth potion in a swirling, opalescent colour, she knew that by trying to make the potion correctly, she had done it wrong, which was exactly what they were aiming for.

"And?" asked the teacher presently. "Have we been successful this time?"

Mildred bottled the potion and set it on the desk next to the cauldron of half-made antidote, which was the colour of dark treacle. "I knew you could do it in the end Mildred. I had every faith in you. Now, the amounts must be exactly right." She discarded a teaspoonful of the potion; that evidently represented the test that Maud had been warned about in the lesson. "Then Ethel poured the whole bottle in." Miss Hardbroom went to do the same but Mildred stopped her at the last moment.

"Maud didn't eat it all because she said it tasted funny."

"How much did she have then?"

Mildred tried frantically to remember.

"It wasn't more than half; I know that... oh, I don't know!"

"Don't panic!!" warned Miss Hardbroom sternly. "Time is of the essence." She waved her hand over the table and a bowl appeared. Slowly she began to pour the thick potion into it. "Say when."

Mildred watched the bowl begin to fill.

"Will that work? I mean, the bowl had semolina in it as well... won't that affect the amount?"

The stream of potion stopped.

"Mildred, look at me."

She obliged, and saw a pleading expression flickering over her form-mistress's stiff features.

"You have to trust me. I trusted you to make the potion again. Please trust me in this matter."

Mildred nodded and returned her eyes to the bowl. Finally it reached the level at which Maud had stopped eating and what little was left was added to the potion. She couldn't believe that such a small amount of potion could have such an adverse effect. Just then, the lab door opened.

"Is it ready?" asked Miss Drill. "Maud is on the last block of ice and it has already begun to melt. She hasn't woken up."

"One minute," said Miss Hardbroom, concentrating hard on stirring the potion. Its colour lightened until it was the same pearly hue as the original poison had been. "I need to measure it. And for that I need silence," she added as Mildred opened her mouth to speak. Chastened, she retreated to the back of the room with Miss Drill, watching the process. She thought of Maud, alone upstairs and running out of time.

She prayed that they wouldn't be too late.

_Well, it's pretty obvious what I'm going to say now... Please review. Again, the wait for the next chappie might be a bit longer because of coursework commitments. (German poetry commentary, French passives, the complete history of Austria from Roman times to the present day.... that kinda thing.)_


	5. Chapter 5

_Whew! Sorry for the wait. I'm taking advantage of the fact that all my flatmates are out at a bonfire night celebration in the catchily named town of Ottery St Mary which involves people lobbing barrels of burning tar down a big hill. I think I made the right decision to stay behind and update my fic. _

* * *

_Five_

_Moments of truth_

Ethel flew around her room, not caring how much noise she made as she pulled things out of drawers and flung them into her suitcase. Miss Hardbroom's tone had made it quite clear that she was going to be expelled in the morning as a result of her stupid wish to see the effects of a botched potions test, so she didn't see why being out of bed in the middle of the night would make any difference to the fact that she may well have killed a fellow pupil.

Ethel was never usually one to admit fear, but she was petrified of what was going to happen in the morning. She knew it was cowardly to run away from your problems rather than facing them head on, but wasn't just a matter of facing up to having broken the rules. She'd not only done that but she'd also broken one of the most important decrees of the witches' code – you cannot wilfully administer a potion whose effects are unknown to a fellow witch without her consent – and she might have broken the law of the land. It wasn't expulsion that she was scared of so much as imprisonment.

"Ethel?" said a voice in the doorway. She whirled round to see Drusilla standing there, completely confused. "What are you doing? You're making a real racket; HB'll be along any minute. Wait..." She came into the room fully and closed the door behind her. "You're packing? Why?"

"I'm running away," said Ethel, reaching down her cat basket from the top of the closet and ushering a reluctant Night Star into it. "I'm getting expelled tomorrow morning so I don't see any point in hanging around here any longer."

"Expelled!" Drusilla had been half-asleep until that point. "How come?"

"Because you were right," said Ethel mournfully. Her friend still looked confused. "Mildred's blabbermouth potion turned out to be poison. Miss Hardbroom can't make an antidote because there's no potion left and now Maud's going to die and it's all my fault.

"Well, it was my fault that you put the whole lot in," admitted Drusilla.

"I really don't think that's important in the greater scheme of things," said Ethel. "Attempting to poison your classmates isn't really the path to head-girl, is it?"

"You didn't know that it was poison," said Drusilla, trying to make her friend see sense and stop her from venturing out into the storm, which seemed to have worsened in the last half an hour.

"I didn't know what it was at all! I broke the witches' code!" exclaimed Ethel. She opened her window fully and ordered her broom to hover.

"You aren't seriously going to go," said Drusilla. "You'll get soaked! Our broomstick will plummet like a stone and you'll end up stuck in a tree or worse. You of all people know that they aren't good when they get wet!"

"I've put a water repelling spell on it, I'll be fine."

Drusilla wasn't so sure.

"Where are you going to go? You can't really go home, can you? Your dad's chair of governors. They'd find out where you were in a flash, and then you'd just get into even more trouble for running away. Face it Ethel, you're better off here.

"I'll go to my aunt's house," said Ethel stubbornly, mounting her broom and jamming her hat onto her head.

"You are mad, Ethel, you are absolutely mad. It'll all end in tears, I know it will."

Ethel looked up at her, the hard look of defiance on her face intermingled with panic and sadness.

"Then you don't have to be in on it." She echoed her words from the previous morning. "You don't need to know that I've gone."

With that she was off, through the window as fast as her laden broomstick would carry her. Drusilla stood at the window, watching her friend get further and further away. She felt like crying. Not because Ethel had made the choice to leave; she could understand why and she would probably have done the same. It was because she didn't consider Drusilla enough of a friend to take any heed of her advice. She had been brushed aside, just as she had been brushed aside earlier. She was only a friend so long as she was useful.

XXX

Ethel was a good flier: she knew that for a fact and it was one of the things that she took a real pride in. She had thought that flying in storms would not have posed quite so much of a problem as it was doing at that moment. All the flying theory lessons in which she'd only just managed to stay awake, moaning to Drusilla about how she knew it all already, suddenly came flooding back, and Ethel wished that she'd paid more attention.

"_Of course, if the weather is so inclement as to render broomstick travel dangerous then it is imperative that you find another mode of transport." _She could hear Miss Hardbroom's voice in her head above the roar of the gale. _"If going by broomstick is, however, unavoidable, then these simple steps will help to keep you safer."_

The memory was cut off as a particularly violent gust caught her unawares and she screamed, clinging to the broom with all her might as the torrential rain threatened to unseat her completely. Her suitcase and cat basket were swinging wildly from the brush, and whilst a sticking spell was simple enough to cast, trying to concentrate on keeping airborne at the same time made it slightly more difficult. Night Star was yowling at the top of her voice as well, thoroughly annoyed at having been dragged out of a warm bed into the cold and wet. It was often remarked that witches' cats were reflections of their owners, and only now did Ethel realise just how vocal she could be when something displeased her.

A bolt of lightning made her jump, causing the broom to shudder violently. What had Miss Hardbroom said to do if you were caught in a storm?

_Firstly, land safely._

Ethel looked down at the dark expanse of woodland below her. A safe landing was going to be impossible, but nose-diving and hoping for the best seemed to be a better option than staying in the air and getting blown dangerously off course. Ethel took a deep breath and pointed the broom downwards into a quick, steep dive. Once she was nearer the ground she could see the patches between the trees more clearly and managed to touch down in one piece.

_Secondly, direct the broom to the nearest cover._

The nearest cover was obviously the school. She couldn't have got more than a mile away from the battlements. Ethel noted grimly that whether or not the cover should be a safe one was conveniently omitted. Her aunt Isadora's house was a good fifty miles away, but it was a much more welcoming prospect than returning to the castle. Besides, she'd made up her mind to run away. She couldn't turn back after that. She didn't want to have to face Drusilla later in the morning, knowing that she'd failed in something as comparatively simple as running away. Ethel made up her mind and pointed her broomstick in the direction of her aunt's house, casting a simple compass spell that would keep her on course in the high winds.

_Thirdly, remount._

She got back on the broom, this time not side-saddle. It wasn't ladylike, but it was essential to establish a more stable seat. She cast the sticking spell on her luggage and braced herself for step four.

_Finally, fly low and slow. _

She lifted off the ground at a snail's pace, rising to just above the treetops. It was not going to be a short or a pleasant journey, but at least it would be stable and moderately safe. She had not gone far, however, when Ethel felt that something wasn't right. She looked down to see the raindrops hissing as they hit her broom handle. The water-repelling spell was wearing off. Broomsticks, especially high-quality, sensitive broomsticks like Ethel's, were adversely affected by water. It was well known that even a light drizzle could cause them to shake and lose direction, and Ethel feared what a torrential downpour would do.

"Down now," she said. "Come on broom, down gently."

The broomstick did not heed her command and instead stopped in mid air, getting wetter and wetter until it plummeted to the ground. Since she had not been very high up, Ethel's fall was broken by the trees and although bruised, she was not seriously injured as she finally came to rest on the forest floor. The same could not be said for her broomstick. She watched as it landed beside her in three separate pieces. It seemed that she was destined to make the rest of her journey on foot.

Ethel looked through the trees in first one direction, then the other. She was soaked to the skin as a result of her fall and there was no way that she would be able to walk to her aunt's house. She'd have to go back to the castle. It was the only option. A flash of lightning illuminated a stone wall that was barely visible through the thick undergrowth. It had never before seemed quite as foreboding as it did just then. Ethel gulped inwardly and picked up the pieces of her broom, dragging her luggage along behind her. Once the lightning had passed, her surroundings were plunged into an oppressive darkness and she found herself praying for another glimpse of the terrifying building just to reassure her that she was going in the right direction.

"Will you be quiet Star?" Ethel snapped to her screeching cat, but Night Star would not desist and her owner stopped in the middle of the trail, feeling lost and dejected as she realised for the second time that night that Drusilla was right. Even if she managed to find her way back to the castle in the darkness, Walker's Gate would be closed and she would be trapped outside the walls until the new first-years came in September. Ethel dropped her belongings and curled up in the shelter of the nearest tree, hoping to wait out the storm and seek a fresh solution in the cold light of day. She opened Night Star's basket and pulled her reluctant cat out, holding her close for warmth and comfort and ignoring the yowled complaints.

"What would Sybil say if she could see me now?" asked Ethel of no one in particular. "Sitting here under a tree, having disgraced the family name. She'd probably laugh at me, just like all those times I've laughed at her. Oh Star, why didn't I listen to Drusilla?"

Night Star didn't reply, and Ethel was glad of the darkness masking the fact that not all the droplets running down her face were caused by the rain.

XXX

It was the moment of truth, thought Mildred as Miss Hardbroom uncorked the bottle containing what, to the untrained eye, looked to be an exact replica of the morning's failed blabbermouth potion. She looked over at Maud, pale and deathly still, her breath barely fluttering. The last block of ice had just melted, and they were out of time. Mildred couldn't watch. She clenched her fists tightly and focussed on the floor, but she could still see what was going on beside her in her mind's eye. Miss Hardbroom would be measuring the exact dose, then pouring it into Maud's mouth, and then everyone would be waiting with their fingers crossed, praying that the quantities had been correct and that Mildred's potion had been wrong.

After a few moments of tense silence, Mildred looked up, unable to bear the suspense any longer. Maud seemed unchanged. It hadn't worked. Something had gone wrong.

Mildred felt sick for the second time that night. She didn't know what to do, what to say. She wanted to cry, to scream, to shout, to throttle her potions teacher for getting it wrong. But she was numb and frozen, unable to speak due to the lump in her throat. She looked around. Miss Drill was staring into the middle distance, although Mildred could see that her eyes were red-rimmed with unshed tears. Miss Hardbroom's face was as impassive as usual, but her knuckles were white where she was gripping the bottle with nervous ferocity. Finally, she tried to bring herself to look down at her friend, but she couldn't do it. That made it far too real. Her eyes returned to the floor.

To Mildred, the next few seconds seemed to be an eternity until a choked gasp broke the sombre silence. Maud spluttered into life, looking confused to find her best friend and two teachers crowded around her.

"Maud!" exclaimed Mildred, throwing her arms around her friend."We thought we'd lost you!"

"Don't suffocate the poor girl," snapped Miss Hardbroom. Her voice seemed unchanged from the norm, as if she was completely unaffected by the night's traumas. Mildred released Maud and turned to find her teacher wearing a small smile of what could only be described as relief.

"What happened?" croaked Maud. "What did I just eat? It tasted disgusting."

"Ethel poisoned you," said Mildred, stumbling over her words in her haste to tell the story. "She didn't mean to, she meant to poison me. Well, I don't think she really meant that either, but we made you an antidote and it was our potion and I had to make it wrong again and..."

"Mildred," interrupted Miss Hardbroom. "Mildred!"

Mildred fell silent.

"I think it would be best if you went back to bed now, Mildred."

"But..." Mildred began, pointing to Maud.

"Maud will be fine," continued her form-mistress. "And you have lessons in a few short hours. I think that going back to bed would be profitable, especially since Maud now has to stay awake for the next six hours being regularly dosed with antidote."

"Come on Mildred," said Miss Drill, steering her towards the door. "Everything's ok now."

"If you could let Miss Cackle know the events of tonight's little drama, it would be most appreciated," Miss Hardbroom called after her colleague.

Mildred gave a final look back at Maud before she let Miss Drill herd her out of the room. Maud gave her a weak smile, which Mildred returned with more enthusiasm. Everything was going to be fine.

* * *

_To be continued! Unfortnately the next chapter will definitely take longer because, erm, I haven't written it yet. (Looks sheepish.) It will be with you ASAP._

_PS: I've started a Worst Witch forum, seeing as though it was lacking one. Everyone's welcome, so come along and check it out. I'm a bit lonely there at the mo._


	6. Chapter 6

_Whew! Sorry for the long wait folks - life and uni got in the way a bit, but here's the next chapter. Before we start, I'd just like to make it clear that the staffroom scenes are my favourite, and I therefore had to include one in my fic. _

* * *

_Six_

_The Morning After_

Considering how few people were involved in the night's epic adventure, it seemed to Miss Cackle that the entire school was privy to the cataclysmic events in varying degrees of elaboration. According to some of the accounts that she had overheard, Maud had died at least six times in increasingly gruesome ways. Gossip was rife, as it usually was amongst the girls when something that didn't concern them in the slightest happened and postponing assembly had only added speed to the rumour mill. Much as she hated the interruption to the day, Miss Cackle had held to it to be a necessary evil. It afforded them a little more time in which to try and wrestle with a larger problem that had arisen as a result of the almost-poisoning, namely that of Ethel Hallow. She had failed to come to her early morning meeting and further investigation had found distinct evidence of her having done a runner. This wouldn't, in any other circumstances, be quite so much of a problem, but Miss Cackle was terrified for the girl's safety after observing the weather conditions that she would have set off in. As a result, she was currently spending assembly time in the staffroom with Miss Drill, trying to establish Ethel's possible whereabouts. Miss Bat, who had got into a flap at the mere mention of a missing student, had been sent in search for Drusilla, ostensibly to see if the girl knew anything about her friend's disappearance but in reality to give her colleagues some peace in which to think logically. Presently she returned, a nervous-looking second-year in tow.

"Come in Drusilla," said Miss Cackle brightly in an attempt to reassure her that she was not in any personal trouble. "I daresay you know what happened last night."

Drusilla nodded mutely.

"You'll be pleased to know that Maud is going to make a full recovery. The person we are more concerned with at the moment is Ethel. It appears that she ran away last night after she found out what had happened. Do you, as her best friend, have any idea where she might be?"

Drusilla bit her lip and shook her head. She wanted to say something; she dearly wanted to tell the headmistress that Ethel had gone to her aunt's house and see Ethel get what was coming to her. She deserved it, after ignoring all her so-called friend's advice. But in the end, loyalty won over a desire for revenge and she kept her mouth shut, unable to betray a friend and ruin a camaraderie – her only true camaraderie – that was based on the already shaky foundations of almost-trust and a mutual dislike of Mildred Hubble.

"We are very worried, you see, due to the storm that she set off in," continued Miss Cackle. "We don't want her to have had an accident." She could tell that Drusilla was holding something back and waited patiently for a spoken reply. She didn't say anything more to her pupil, not being much inclined towards or indeed able in the field of mind-games. That was much more Miss Hardbroom's forte. "If you're sure, you may go."

Drusilla made to leave but then stopped, finally finding her absent tongue. It was stupid to remain silent when there was the possibility that Ethel had plummeted to her doom in the freak thunders and was alone in the forest, needing help.

"She said she was going to go to her aunt's house," she admitted nervously. "I tried to warn her, honestly I did, but she wouldn't listen."

"It's alright Drusilla," said Miss Cackle, sensing her distress. "I believe you. Thank you for telling us. You may go."

She waited until Drusilla was out of sight and earshot before collapsing onto the table with a groan, burying her head in her hands.

"Now what do we do?" asked Miss Bat. "Do we even know where Ethel's aunt lives?"

"It's in the big filing cabinet," said Miss Cackle, somewhat muffled. She didn't look up or make any sign of going to get the address. Miss Bat fluttered from one corner of the room to the other, pausing each time in front of the foreboding cabinet that none of the staff liked to enter alone, lest they never be seen again. Finally she hovered in front of the stationery cupboard.

"Davina!" said Miss Cackle sharply, pausing in her close contemplation of the table for long enough to see an impending crisis and a week of being unable to access new exercise books. "Don't you dare get in that cupboard! We shall need all of our heads to solve this one, yours included."

"Oh..." Miss Bat sat down in her usual chair but it did nothing to ease her anxious state. "Where's Constance when we need her. She'd know what to do. She always knows everything!"

Miss Cackle didn't reply, for she had just seen something out of the corner of her eye that gave her a very good idea as to her deputy's whereabouts. Two first-years had been chatting excitedly in the corridor up until a few moments ago, when they had looked up, gone silent, and made a hasty retreat along the passage. As if on cue, Miss Hardbroom stalked into the staffroom and closed the door. She leaned against it heavily and her gathered colleagues could tell that she was resisting the urge to crumple into an extremely ungainly heap.

"You would think that they had never seen someone wearing pyjamas before," she said in reference to the first-years.

"To be fair Constance, most of them haven't seen you wearing your pyjamas before," pointed out Miss Drill. "Especially not at half-past nine in the morning. How's Maud?"

"She's doing well. She can sleep now. Finally."

"Constance, what are we going to do about Ethel?" squealed Miss Bat, who was becoming increasingly worried about the missing girl and increasingly flustered that no one had yet thought of a solution. "You ought to know what to do, she's somewhere between here and her aunt's house..."

Miss Hardbroom fixed the diminutive chanting teacher with a look of half-disbelief, half-exhaustion. Miss Bat tailed off but bravely stayed where she was instead of running for the cupboard.

"Davina, I have been up since half-past one. I have been brewing highly illegal potions. Maud's had all my wide-awake. To cap it all, I have second-year potions to teach in half an hour and I am still wearing my pyjamas. The last thing I need at the present point is to have to try and work out what to do with Ethel." She finally came away from the door and sank gratefully into a chair. "What I need is either some unspeakably strong tea or a cold shower."

"Well, I can provide the former." Miss Cackle passed over the teapot, which was always kept hot in case of such emergencies. "As for the latter, just stick your head out of the window." She grimaced as she looked out at the rain that was still pouring steadily, such unusual weather for June. "We need to contact Isadora Hallow," she continued. "To warn her of her niece's impending arrival if nothing else."

"I'll go," volunteered Miss Drill. "I daresay that the girls will appreciate being let off PE on such a miserable morning. Besides," she added as a reply to Miss Bat's frantic gestures to the weather outside. "I need some fresh air to get my head straight after last night. I'll send Ethel's aunt a telegram at the post office and look for her along the way."

"But it's raining!" squeaked Miss Bat, finally voicing her thoughts.

"I know," Miss Drill reassured, exchanging a somewhat despairing glance with Miss Cackle over the top of their colleague's head. "I'm not afraid of a little water, Davina."

Miss Cackle watched the PE teacher leave the room, hoping that the mission would be a success.

"Well, that's one problem on the way to being solved. Now, what to do with Ethel once her whereabouts is established." Miss Cackle prodded her deputy, who had nodded off and was in danger of pouring tea all over the tablecloth. "Constance my dear, if you're going to insist on teaching your classes instead of going back to bed for the remainder of the morning, then may I suggest that you get dressed?"

Miss Hardbroom nodded a somewhat groggy acquiescence and disappeared. Miss Cackle sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning, wishing, not for the first time, that the pupils at her school were a little more… normal. A little more controlled. She was quite sure that Miss Pentangle had never had to deal with something of this calibre.

"Amelia…" began Miss Bat nervously.

"Yes Davina," said the addressee without looking up. "You may retreat into the cupboard if you so wish."

XXX

Ethel couldn't believe that she'd managed to fall asleep in the middle of the storm, but when she woke up she immediately wished that she hadn't. She was stiff, cold and soaking wet, and her situation hadn't improved much since she had last reflected upon it. She looked down at her broken broomstick again and wondered if tying together with socks would do the trick. If Mildred could do it then it couldn't be that hard, could it?

She flicked open her suitcase and rummaged around for socks, suddenly thinking that it might have been profitable to have packed in a slightly more orderly fashion. It was strange, thought Ethel, how much a person could change when they started panicking. In her two years at the academy, whilst she couldn't say that she'd been prepared for every eventuality, she'd always been very good at planning ahead, yet here she was, with no clue as to what she was going to do next.

Finally, the socks found and tied around the broomstick, she crossed her fingers and ordered it to hover.

"Come on broom. Please don't give up on me now."

After a few false starts the broom seemed to obey, although it shuddered violently when she tried to sit on it, and she didn't dare try and load her luggage onto the back for she knew that socks did not make for the sturdiest of connections. She was going to have to rethink her non-existent plan.

Ethel looked back at the castle. She was closer than she thought. She swallowed hard, as if she was physically swallowing her pride. It was stupid not to go back to the school. She would simply have to accept the consequences of her actions, no matter how unpleasant they might be. And, despite everything, Ethel was anxious to know the outcome of the night's events. She desperately wanted to know how Maud was, although her reasons for such a desire were not entirely selfless. If Maud was alright, then perhaps she could pray for leniency…

Ethel stopped outside Walker's gate and her broomstick jerked to a halt beside her. She was going to have to try and fly over, unless she wanted to be stuck outside in the pouring rain until the next person left the castle on foot. She turned to her broom and began to give it a pep talk.

"Right broom, we're going to have to fly. Can you please stay in one piece for two minutes whilst I get over the gates? Please? Just two minutes?"

The broomstick gave no indication of having heard her, but she thought that it had understood. Gingerly she remounted and tapped the broom, beginning a slow and wobbly descent.

"Nearly there," she pleaded as they reached the top. "Not far to go now."

It was at that point that the gates opened with an ominous creak, making Ethel jump. This sudden movement was the last straw for the broom and it tumbled from the sky with an air of obstinacy, as if it would stubbornly refuse to work ever again.

Ethel was mortified. Not only had she fallen spectacularly for the second time in one morning, she had managed to land on top of Miss Drill, who had been coming through the gate at the exact moment that Ethel's broom had decided to give up the ghost.

"This isn't fair!" she moaned, kicking her offending broomstick as the PE teacher helped her to her feet. "This kind of thing happens to Mildred, not me!"

"Well, it's a good job that it did happen to you; otherwise the wild panic in the staffroom as to your whereabouts might have gone on for weeks. Are you hurt?"

Ethel shook her head. Only her pride had been injured as a result of her midnight escapades.

"Come on." Miss Drill gestured towards the gates. "Go inside and wring yourself out. You're late for an urgent appointment with Miss Cackle."

Reluctantly Ethel trudged into the courtyard.

"How is Maud?" she asked, unable to stop her eyes wandering towards the potions lab window.

"Luckily, Maud will be fine. You've been very fortunate in that respect."

"I didn't mean to," said Ethel, suddenly defensive. "I didn't mean to poison her."

"I'm sure you didn't. The trouble with magic is that nothing really goes to plan. I should know." Miss Drill, despite all that had occurred, felt some sympathy for the bedraggled young witch in front of her. "Go on. The sooner it starts, the sooner it will be over."

* * *

_OK, once again I can't promise when the final chapter will be up, but I can promise that it will be the final chapter! Just a couple of loose ends to tie up and we're there. Hope you enjoyed it!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Well here it is at long last: the final chapter. Not much action, but a lot of soul searching and hopefully a couple of funnies in there too. I'm going to miss this..._

_I'll stop being sentimental now. On with the show!!!_

* * *

_Seven_

_All's well…_

"Maud… Maud!"

"Wake up sleepyhead."

"Come on Maud, time to get up."

Maud opened her eyes and groped around for her glasses, so as to be able to see her friends with any degree of clarity. They were all crowded around her bed, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's time for your final dose," asid Enid, shaking the bottle of antidote at her. Maud grimaced. The potion was quite possibly the worst she'd ever tasted and she'd already had to drink almost an entire bottle that morning.

"Come on Maud, it's only one more spoonful," coaxed Mildred. "Then it will all be over."

"Alright, alright," she grumbled, sitting up gingerly. She poured out the final dregs of the potion and swallowed it with difficulty. "What are you doing in here anyway? HB will flip if she finds you all in here."

Her gathered gaggle of friends burst out laughing and Maud regarded them with a thoroughly confused expression.

"What? I'm serious. She said I needed complete rest and recuperation with no interruptions."

"That may be," said Jadu once she had regained some composure. "But I don't think that HB will be finding us in here any time soon." This sent the other girls into fresh peals of laughter.

Maud looked questioningly at her friends.

"Is anyone going to stop sniggering long enough to explain?"

Mildred finally took pity on her best friend and took a deep breath.

"HB will not find us in here because she is currently asleep in the potions lab."

"She dropped off in the middle of our lesson and Miss Cackle felt that it would be… _safer_ to leave her be."

Maud raised an eyebrow in disbelief. The sight of her form teacher passed out on the front desk was not one that came readily to mind.

"Don't you believe us?" asked Enid, her voice full of faux-hurt. "It's the talk of the school. That and Ethel of course. You can't go anywhere without someone prophesising her doom, whether through explusion or pneumonia."

"Pneumonia?" Maud's state of befuddlement was not getting any lighter. _Honestly_, she thought. _You're out of the loop for half a day and you completely lose track of everything that's going on._

"She tried to fly fifty miles in a thunderstorm last night," explained Ruby airily, as if Ethel did this sort of thing every day. "It didn't work."

"And now she's got a streaming cold," Enid added with relish. She gave Mildred, who had just got comfy on the end of Maud's bed and closed her eyes, a sharp jab in the ribs. "Wake up Mil, or we'll stick you in the lab with HB."

"Please no."

The girls burst into fresh fits of laughter and Mildred managed a somewhat sleepy smile, although it was clear that the memory of the cold feeling of dread that she had experienced last night had not fully died. Maud caught her eye and smiled in reassurance.

Just then the mirth was interrupted by a knock at the door. Miss Cackle's face appeared around the frame.

"I thought I might find you all in here," she said. "Strictly speaking, Maud is recovering from a serious illness and shouldn't have quite so many visitors all at the same time. But, since it is widely acknowledged that laughter is the best medicine, I'll let you off just this once. It's time for assembly now, and I expect to see you all there. Fully awake, I might add, Mildred."

"What about Miss Hardbroom?" asked Enid sweetly, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Miss Cackle returned the expression.

"Thank you for your… concern, Enid, but I can assure you that Miss Hardbroom is perfectly compos mentis. Now, if I can succeed in persuading you that Maud is going to be perfectly fine, maybe we will be able to proceed to assembly and leave your friend to get some much needed rest."

Jadu, Ruby and Enid all trooped out of the tiny room. Mildred showed some reluctance to follow them.

"You too Mildred," coaxed the headmistress. "You can come back afterwards."

"Go on Millie," urged Maud. "I'll be fine."

Eventually Mildred left the room, Miss Cackle following. Maud leaned back against her pillow and closed her eyes, going over the events of the day in her mind. It had been a long, long morning, and at that moment she wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week. Just as she was dropping off (or so it seemed – she later reflected that she'd probably been fast asleep for quite a while), the sound of the door creaking open jerked her back into consciousness. She opened her eyes and realised that she'd nodded off with her glasses on before looking up at her visitor. Her mouth set in a hard line when she registered who it was. Ethel was standing in the doorway; nose red and eyes watering from her cold. She looked sheepish and tenacious in equal measure.

"Yes?" asked Maud irritably. If it hadn't been for Millie's timely interception, Ethel would have been the cause of Maud's demise, and she didn't want to spend any more time than absolutely necessary in her presence. "Come to finish what you started?"

"Look, don't make this any harder than it already is," snapped Ethel. "I came to offer my apology, but if it's not wanted…" She turned to leave.

"Wait…" Maud called. She was not so bitter as to refuse an apology, no matter how grudgingly it was given. Ethel turned back and closed the door. She stood silently for a moment, wringing her hands as if she didn't know what to do with them.

"I honestly didn't mean to poison you," she said. "Honestly. I just wanted to see what the effects of the potion were."

"It's ok, I believe you," said Maud. She paused. "I just don't understand why."

Ethel shrugged.

"Curiosity I guess."

Before she could say anything else, the door opened again. A small 'oh' from the frame heralded Mildred's return. Ethel coughed uncomfortably, whether from her situation or her illness Muad couldn't tell, and rushed past the latest arrival to leave the room without another word. Mildred entered, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"What did Ethel want?" she asked.

"To apologise," said Maud cheerfully. "Although you know Ethel. The words 'I', 'am' and 'sorry' simply don't belong in the same sentence with her." She snorted. "I got the nearest to an apology I'm ever going to get I suppose."

Mildred relaxed visibly and perched on the edge of the bed.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," she said. "If it wasn't for my frankly awful potion-making ability, you wouldn't be in this mess in the first place."

Maud sighed theatrically.

"Mildred Hubble, if I wasn't confined to bedrest I would jump up and throttle you. It doesn't matter what you did before, you saved me and that's all that counts. Ethel, on the other hand, whose fault it actually is because she was the idiot who gave me the potion as opposed to leaving it where it was supposed to be, ran away. I know who I'd rather have an apology from."

They sat in a companionable silence for a while, broken only by Mildred's intermittent yawns. Maud wondered what it must have been like for her friend, frantically running around the castle and facing her fears whilst she lay unconscious.

"What's going to happen to her?" she asked, her mind coming full circle back to Ethel. Mildred smiled.

"She's been banned from the potions lab for the rest of the year," she replied. "So she'll automatically fail her potions final. And she's definitely no longer HB's favourite, which for Ethel is probably punishment enough in itself."

Maud laughed, gradually remembering her long, long conversation with their potions teacher in the early hours of the morning. She had been very drowsy and couldn't recall exactly what happened, but when the wideawake potion had run out they'd had to talk to keep her awake. They'd started on strictly formal topics, but school could only fuel a discussion between teacher and pupil for so long and soon they'd moved onto more personal subjects. It was only when she had found herself describing just how much she missed her parents when she was away that Maud had realised that she had never shared the information with anyone before, let alone a formidable form-mistress. Likewise, she had found out things about HB that would probably rock the entire school if made public. But Maud wasn't about to make them public. What had happened that previous night was so surreal that she was having trouble convincing herself that it wasn't just a dream, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"Maybe she isn't so bad," she mused aloud.

"Who, Ethel?" Mildred looked startled.

"No, HB." Maud paused, trying to think of the right way to describe her thoughts. "I think, last night she proved she was a bit more… human than we usually give her credit for."

Mildred contemplated this, lining it up with her own experiences. The worried note in her voice when she'd diagnosed Maud's condition, the plea for trust between them… Her mind came to rest on their brief encounter in the cloakroom. She wondered about telling Maud what had happened, but something made her decide against it. She nodded.

"Maybe you're right."

XXX

Miss Cackle trimmed the wicks of the candle lamps in the staffroom before settling into her favourite chair for a well-deserved slice of strawberry cheesecake. Miss Bat was humming a little tune to herself as she crocheted what she claimed to be a scarf, but what looked more like an all-in-one sleep suit for a mutated squid.

"Well," said the chanting teacher presently. "I'm glad we sorted that out."

Miss Drill raised an eyebrow at 'we'. Miss Bat had spent the majority of the day in the staffroom cupboard and it had taken a good two hours of cajoling and fruit salad to assure her that crisis had been averted and that there was nothing ill with the world.

"Yes," said Miss Cackle thoughtfully, choosing to ignore the inclusivity of the statement. "All's well that end's well."

"Not quite," said Miss Hardbroom grimly. If her sudden appearance had made her superior jump she didn't show it. "We still have to explain to our chair of governors why his supposedly brilliant daughter failed her potions final."

"I was hoping that Ethel would explain that for herself," said Miss Cackle wistfully, although she knew that it was a long shot. Miss Hardbroom stopped in the middle of pouring tea into a cup and viewed the headmistress with disbelief.

"This is Ethel Hallow we're talking about. Leopards were not, when I last looked, in the habit of changing their spots."

"True," Miss Cackle conceded, "but they can change the way they see their spots."

Miss Hardbroom continued to pour the tea, thinking about the headmistress's philosophy. She thought about Mildred and her crisis of confidence, and the strange surge of something – pride, she supposed – that she had felt when her shaken pupil had finally succeeded. She thought about Maud, willingly opening up her innermost fears and hopes to a person she would ordinarily deride as an unfeeling dragon, and, conversely, her own decision to share what she had done with her student. She wondered about asking for Maud's discretion in the matter, but then decided against it. Was it really so important?

"You know, I think you might be right Headmistress."

Miss Cackle gave her a knowing look over the top of her spectacles.

"So I was right," said Miss Bat triumphantly, bringing Miss Hardbroom out of her reverie. "Everything has ended happily."

"It's still not quite so simple," said the potions teacher with a wry smirk as she remembered the reason she had entered the staffroom in the first place. "I still need to write a long and tedious letter to the Witches' Guild explaining why I had to make an extremely dangerous and definitely outlawed potion."

"Well…" Miss Cackle's eyes twinkled. "I don't think that will be strictly necessary."

"But Headmistress…"

"The witch who was due to investigate this matter has mysteriously contracted an acute form of Mexican Jumping Disease. Oh, don't be alarmed, it's nothing serious, she'll be perfectly fine. But it seems that in all the confusion, the case file pertaining to use of said definitely outlawed potion was tragically misplaced." She smiled. "I think we'll keep it under our hats, don't you think ladies?"

The three remaining staff members looked at each other and nodded in an enthusiastic unison.

_Fin_

* * *

_Well, there we are. Final review anyone? You know you want to... I had to finish on a staffroom scene, we've already established that they're my favourites and I exercised remarkable self-restraint in limiting their appearances to just two._

_Adieu for now, but if you enjoyed this feel free to have a nosy at my profile for more fics. There aren't any other WW ones unfortunately but who knows? Maybe this dreaded lurgy will give me wonderous inspiration... (*Kimmeth begins to think...*)_


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